


Life Starts Now

by stelleappese



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: (about falling teeth), (but just a tiny little bit), (the medical kind), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Coping, Depression, Electroconvulsive Therapy, F/M, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mental Institutions, Mood Swings, Nightmares, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Polyamory, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Drugs, Suicide Attempt, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-23 21:01:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4892104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stelleappese/pseuds/stelleappese
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Josh has almost come to terms with the fact he's lost or pushed away everybody he's ever loved. What he can't come to terms with is losing his memories of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfic sucked the life out of me /o\
> 
> I apologize in advance for any inaccuracies.

“I see”, murmurs Dr. Hill, frowning a little.

It’s a gorgeous day, outside: the sun shines shyly and weakly, but it makes the garden, still soaked from the storm, glitter gently. Birds chirp cheerfully, hopping from one dripping branch to the other; they hop on the windowsill outside of Dr. Hill’s study, they peck at the crumbs that end up there when the doctor has his lunch at his desk, and shakes the handkerchief he uses as a tiny tablecloth out of the window. Out in the tidy, beautiful garden people are walking around slowly, as if sedated, which is, Josh thinks, probably the case…  
“They won’t. Come visit, that is. But just in case”, murmurs Josh.

He feels sedated too, can barely keep his eyes open. He can’t wait to go back to his room and sleep. The head nurse, a Greek woman in her fifties with very sharp eyes, keeps telling him it’s not good for him, sleeping so much, but Josh is pretty sure everybody decided that’s the best option. His parents, Dr. Hill, the director of the clinic. They all want him to be as calm as they can possibly make him.

“And why do you want me to keep them away from you?”, asks Dr. Hill, “Are you ashamed, Joshua?”  
_Of course_  he’s ashamed. He feels like shit for what he’s done, now that he can actually understand the magnitude of it. He feels worthless. He feels like Chris shouldn’t have come back for him.  
“It’s not that”, murmurs Josh, blinking hard, “They won’t come anyway”, he insists, and stands up.  
“Fine. We’ll talk about this during your session, tomorrow”, Dr. Hill decides, probably not wanting to push him too much.

Everybody does that, lately; they treat him like he’s a bomb about to explode, like one of those explosive packages from the movies, the ones that some unknowing poor bastard picks up, handles in the wrong way, and sets off. Does Dr. Hill think Josh did it? That he killed that man back on Blackwood Mountain? His parents sure as hell seem to, even though the police didn’t find any trace of him on Josh or vice versa…  
“Ok”, says Josh, “Will you remember to tell Miss Huang? Do you remember the names?”  
“Christopher, Samantha, and Ashley. I remember”, assures him Dr. Hill, with a little smile, “Don’t worry, Joshua. Now go back to your room. You look exhausted.”

*

Sometimes, back in his old life, right before falling asleep, Josh would have this weird, tingling sensation, like countless spiders all scrambling on him. He’d feel like his body had suddenly become incredibly heavy and was sinking through the mattress. He’d be awake, eyes wide open, unable to move a muscle, falling deeper and deeper.

Getting ready for ECT is something like that. It makes him feel like he gave up any kind of control over his body the day he stepped into the clinic. They sedate him first, three times a week. The first time they did it (was it the first time?) they misjudged the dose of anesthetic he needed, and Josh felt all of it. He felt his body go slack after they injected him with muscle relaxants, so that he wouldn’t accidentally hurt himself. He felt his body seize, but remotely, in a nightmarish sort of way.

And they may have gotten the dosage right, now, but Josh still feels like he’s merely going through the motions of what’s supposed to be a normal life. He wakes up, washes up, joins the activities his doctor suggested (imposed) him, eats, sleeps, sleeps, sleeps. He does stupid things very often. He throws spoons into the trash and puts empty yogurt cups into the drawer, he finds himself wondering whether he ate or not, sometimes he means to walk to some doctor’s study and ends up somewhere else instead.

It’s all right, he thinks, lying in his bed at lights out. It’s a tiny bed, the mattress is thin and hard, but it’s irrelevant, since Josh seems to be able to fall asleep anywhere, lately. The light moves in weird ways on the ceiling, it shifts and shakes and blinks. When he just got to the clinic, he used to see faces in the light, but the meds made that stop. Not it’s just light, ripped apart by the glare of the occasional car driving by down the street.  
It’s all right. He deserves all of it.

*

Josh has been there for eight months (he knows this because of the calendar, the nurse, Ioanna, checks it for him; he keeps getting confused) when he first realizes it.

He’s sitting on his bed, his mind wandering away from the book he was reading and out in the world, when he realizes that Chris is going to go back to college any time, now. He wonders if he will share a house with Ashley. He wonders what it’s like, to make plans for a new beginning.

And suddenly, he can’t figure out why he’s in the clinic to begin with. He _knows_  he’s done something horrible back at the lodge, he knows _what_  he’s done, more or less, but he has no idea _why_.

Dr. Hill knocks on the wall, since there’s no door, probably wondering what Josh is doing, staring at the wall with that stupid look on his face.  
“Is something wrong, Joshua?”, he asks. Josh briefly asks himself if he keep saying his name because he’s worried Josh might forget who he is.  
“Why did I do all that stuff back on Blackwood Mountain?”, he asks, frowning, then: “And have my parents told Hannah and Beth not to come visit, because…”

He stops. Dr. Hill gives him a cautious look.

As soon as he said it out loud, he realized what was wrong with it. His sisters are dead. They died more than a year ago. He _knows_  this. He’s looked for them, he’s been at the memorial, he’s seen…  
How could he have forgotten? How the _fuck_  does someone forget something like _that_?

“Oh, God…”, he murmurs, and all of a sudden he’s out of breath, his throat is clenching up and he can’t get his lungs to inflate enough, and there’s black spots in his vision and Dr. Hill is gently guiding him around, making him sit on the edge of the bed, telling him to put his head between his knees and breathe slowly, deep and slow, counting as he does it, like they’ve talked about.

“It can happen, to people undergoing electroconvulsive therapy”, he says, a hand on Josh’s shoulder, squeezing soothingly, “Sometimes they forget things.”

“What do you mean?”, says Josh, alarmed, his chest feeling tight again, his ears starting to ring, “They _forget_? What… what does it mean, ‘they forget’?”  
He can’t hear what Dr. Hill says next, because he can’t calm down. The ringing in his ears gets louder, his vision blurs at the edges, and he feels himself falling, falling, falling…

*

Josh doesn’t want to forget. He can’t let it happen. Memories are the only thing he has.  
Memories of his sisters, before they disappeared.  
Memories of his friends, before he betrayed them.  
Memories of Chris, before he shut him out of his life.  
He can’t let it happen.

He’s asked Dr. Hill to keep Chris away because he knows him. If he ever found it in him to forgive him, even just a little bit, he’d be here. He’d be with him, like he’s always been. And all the bullshit in Josh’s head, all the rot and fear and desperation, it would poison him too.  
He’s asked Dr. Hill to keep Chris away because he thought he could keep him for himself anyway, if just in his head.

He tries testing himself, during art class, sitting there with a brush shaking in his hand. How did they meet, the first time Chris went to Josh’s birthday, the first trip they took together, that time they had a massive X-Files marathon throughout an entire week. But then he bumps into a gap.  
Was Chris there when Josh and his sisters were stealing cherries from someone’s tree and Josh fell and broke his wrist? Did they ever go swim in the lake together? That night when Josh was fourteen and his first crush rejected him, was it Chris who sneaked inside his bedroom and brought him beer and candies and acted silly until morning? Was it someone else?

Josh has always thought himself a resilient  guy. From when he was eleven and he ended up in Dr. Hill’s office as he prescribed him antidepressants to when his sisters disappeared, from the year he spent in utter and absolute pain to the monsters he saw back at the lodge (real and not).  
But this, this he can’t handle.

He’s been a good boy, since his parents dropped him at the clinic. He’s obeyed orders and eaten his lunch and taken his meds and gone to therapy. He’s obviously still very controlled, but not as much as others; he still gets some privacy. Every fifteen minutes, a nurse will look inside the room, check he’s alive, and leave. It doesn’t matter whether Josh is naked or jerking off (unlikely) or whatever, they won’t even blink.  
The only thing he has to do is watch his timing.

His hands shake as he writes the letter, not because he’s nervous, but because they always do, lately. He scraps it twice. In the end, he opts for the simplest way to put it he can think of. He can’t even recognize his own hand-writing. He presses too much, the sharpie (he’s not allowed to use pens or pencils, pens and pencils are sharp) bleeds too much ink, it stains the desk.

The nurse leans inside and looks at him, checks his name off her list, walks away.  
Josh stands up.

There’s a print of a painting in his room, something impressionist, something pretty and with a lot of blurry flowers. Josh takes the print off the wall and steps on the glass until it breaks. He goes still, he listens carefully, in case someone heard.  
He feels so _aware_ , he feels so lucid.  
Nobody comes. Josh grabs a piece of broken glass big enough, he crawls underneath his bed, where it’s snug and safe and dark, and presses the glass to his wrist.


	2. Chapter 2

Chris blindly gropes for his phone. The room is dark, and waking up so suddenly makes his stomach turn violently. He was sleeping a dreamless sleep, for once. No creatures lurking in the dark, none of the people he loves getting ripped apart, just deep, comforting darkness. Fuck.

He answers the call, grunts, flops back on the bed.  
“It’s me”, says Sam’s voice, clear as day, tense and serious. Chris’ eyes are suddenly wide open. Sam doesn’t call. None of them calls. It’s like they’ve all been trying incredibly hard to forget they even knew each other to begin with.  
“Is something wrong?”, asks Chris, sitting up. Beside him, Ash sighs in her sleep and rolls on her side.  
“It’s Josh”, she says. Chris’ heart jumps in his throat.

“You don’t owe him anything”, says Ashley, ten minutes later, while Chris rushes around the apartment, trying to get dressed as quick as he can.  
“Yeah, I know”, mutters Chris, but it’s a lie. Of course he owes Josh something, he owes Josh anything he needs, he sure as hell owes him more than what he’s been giving him during the past eight month…  
“Remember”, Ashley says, grabbing Chris’ arm before he can march out of the door, “That your well being comes first.”  
“Sure, of course”, says Chris, giving Ashley a kiss on the lips and running outside.

It starts raining while Chris is on the bus, big fat drops exploding against the window, the sky turning gray and angry.  
He should have visited.  
He can tell himself he was busy as much as he likes, he can tell himself that he was trying to go back to his life just like everybody else, that he needed help too, that he woke up, and still wakes up, screaming and crying too, but it doesn’t change a thing. He should have visited.

The storm is getting violent; lightning flashes, briefly illuminating the gray day, thunder breaks deafeningly. Sam is waiting under the canopy outside the entrance of the clinic. Her hair is longer, wavier. There’s an iciness in her eyes that scares Chris a little, but he hugs her all the same, and he’s _so glad_  she’s there.  
They should never have wandered apart, Chris thinks, as Ashley leads him into the clinic; they were always stronger together.

Josh’s parents are there, but they look like they’re about to leave. They both look normal enough, from a distance, but when Chris approaches he notices the look in their eyes, like someone carved them up and left just their shells.  
“Hello, Christopher”, says Josh’s mom, giving him a tight hug, “I didn’t think you would come”, she says. Chris isn’t sure whether her words hurt him more than the fact she sounds like she doesn’t blame him at all.  
“Christopher?”, says the man standing with the Washingtons, giving Chris a long, intense look.  
“Yeah…”  
“May I talk with you in private?”, the man asks, offering Chris his hand. He’s got a firm handshake, but not a vise-like one. The nametag hanging from his pocket says: ‘Dr. A.J. Hill’.

“A few months ago, Joshua asked me to put you on what we call the ‘unwelcome list’”, Dr. Hill explains, “I thought perhaps he’d done it out of resentment or shame, but he never elaborated on the reason, and he insisted you weren’t going to visit anyway. Judging by the recent turn of events, I came to the conclusion he’s afraid he’ll hurt you.”  
Chris nods, though he doesn’t really understand how Josh think he could possibly hurt him.  
“The… recent turn of events?”, he asks.  
“He wrote you a note”, says Dr. Hill, fishing it out of his pocket and handing it to Chris.

‘ _Chris._  
_I’m so sorry. I wanted to make things right._  
_I wanted to fix things. Help you out._  
_I’m sorry._  
_I don’t want to forget you._ ’

“That’s... not his hand-writing”, frowns Chris. Dr. Hill clears his throat.  
“His hands shake a lot since he started ECT”, he explains.  
“What’s that?”, asks Chris.  
“Electroconvulsive therapy”, Dr. Hill answers, very slowly.  
Chris stares at him, gripping the note so hard between his fingers his knuckles go white. He doesn’t even know how to respond to that. He knew ECT had always been an option, and Josh was _so relieved_  when his parents decided to have him take meds instead.  
Dr. Hill goes on telling Chris it wasn’t _his_  suggestion, but the clinic’s director’s. He says he’s managed to talk him out of it the first time Josh ended up there, when he was eleven, but the man had been unmovable this time around.  
“ _‘I don’t want to forget you’_ ”, says Chris, “What does he mean by that?”  
“Well”, sighs Dr. Hill, “One of the counter-effects of ECT is a minor loss of memory. It doesn’t always happen, and Joshua only started noticing recently…”  
“Can I see him?”, Chris blurts out. He can’t take this. He can’t take this man talking about fucking torturing his best friend like it’s the most natural thing in the world.  
“He’s probably still sleeping…”, Dr. Hill says, slowly.  
“I don’t care. Maybe it’s better this way. I want to see him.”

He looks thinner, Josh, paler. His hair is cut short, and the bags under his eyes are even darker than usual. His arms are tied to the bed, so that he can’t hurt himself. Chris drags a chair next to the bed and sits down, all the while trying to swallow down the knot in his throat.  
He reaches out and hesitantly runs a finger against the bandages around Josh’s left wrist.  
“I shouldn’t have left you alone”, he murmurs, in a hiccup, “I shouldn’t have left you alone again.”


	3. Chapter 3

There’s a chair next to Josh’s bed. It’s the first thing he notices when he wakes up. He wonders, his eyes burning, his head throbbing, who put it there, who sat on it, and can’t come up with any explanation that will make sense.

A thunder woke him up; it sounded like Earth itself was being ripped apart, like some giant grabbed it between his hands and tore it open like a melon.  
The streetlight projects the shadow of the rain steaming down the window of Josh’ room against the opposite wall. From time to time, lightning sparks, electric white and blinding.

A nurse peeps inside the room, then leaves.

Josh closes his eyes and wills himself to fall asleep again.

*

He’s still tied up to the bed three days later, when steps echo in the corridor too early for it to be a nurse checking on him again. Josh is staring at the ceiling, his mind buzzing dully. He can’t think about anything; everything gets mixed up and smashed together, faces and places and memories, all squashed in a big ball of nothing.

“Hey”, says a voice. Josh blinks, his heart jumping in his throat. He turns towards the doorway, looks at Chris as he fidgets uncomfortably, then raises a hand and waves at him.  
There’s a fraction of a second in which Josh thinks maybe he started hallucinating again, because there’s no way in hell Chris is actually there, not after what Josh did. But the edges of his vision are clear, there’s no ringing in his ears, and Chris isn’t bruised and bleeding and wearing the same clothes he wore at the lodge.

He’s there. He’s actually there.

Josh tries swallowing down the knot in his throat, he looks at the ceiling again.  
“Please, leave”, he says. His voice sounds weird, all hoarse and low. He realizes just now he hasn’t said a word since he tried killing himself, not to the nurses, not to Dr. Hill, not to his parents, the one and only time they visited him.  
“I’m not going to leave, bro”, says Chris. He sits on the chair next to Josh’s bed, sighs deeply, “How are you feeling?”  
“Worthless”, murmurs Josh, before he can stop himself, “I can’t even manage to kill myself, imagine that.”  
Chris goes quiet for a moment, and Josh takes advantage of his pause to look at him again.  
“Go away”, he says, and it sounds like a plea, “Go home. Spend time with Ashley. Just leave me alone.”  
“Why?”, asks Chris, sharply. It’s not a rhetorical question, Josh can hear that, he actually wants an answer.  
“I’m not good for you”, says Josh, “These… things in my head… they’ll break you, too.”  
“They won’t”, says Chris, “I’m not going to leave you alone. I didn’t leave you alone the first time this happened, and I shouldn’t have left you alone now to begin with. I’m not going anywhere. Deal with it.”

*

Chris doesn’t seem to care that Josh doesn’t talk much. He sits next to his bed, sometimes studying, sometimes reading out loud. Josh can’t bring himself to be interested in his words (they stumble over one another and get all mixed up together in Josh’s head), but Chris’ voice calms him down.   
The little pauses he makes to catch his breath, the sound of the pages being turned, how Chris slowly enunciates the words he’s not familiar with…  
After a while, Josh finds the strength to look at Chris. At the way his mouth moves and his eyelashes flicker. The corners of Josh’s eyes burn a little. A mantra of ‘mineminemine’ keeps echoing inside his head.

*

Since Dr. Hill hasn’t yet told the nurses to untie Josh, Chris is the one cutting up Josh’s food and feeding it to him. At first, Josh refuses to eat. It feels like such an humiliating thing, having someone else take care of his basic needs; but one day Ioanna suggests that maybe Chris is upsetting Josh, maybe he shouldn’t visit so often, and Josh starts eating again.  
“So you do want me around”, Chris grins, wiping Josh’s mouth. His eyes look so warm…

*

The day Josh is finally untied from the bed, his knees feel weak and his back hurts. He spends twenty minutes in the shower (so long that the nurse has to stroll inside the bathroom and make sure he’s not trying to drown himself or something), under the cold jet of water (no hot water for the patients, in case they try and burn themselves), trying to get his muscles to start working again.

He wears a clean hospital gown and actually combs his hair, for once. It feels weird, not having to be lying down on the bed anymore, and he’s doing all he can to avoid ending up there, even though there’s nothing to do in his room.

So he paces and paces, from the doorway to the wall, from the wall to the doorway.

The weather is still miserable; thick dark clouds clutter the sky, not even a single solitary ray of sunshine makes it through, but still, the rain won’t come. Just murmuring thunder and flashes of lightning in the distance.

When Chris walks into Josh’s room, he finds him standing in front of the window, staring at the sky.  
When Josh notices him, he’s looking at him in such a peculiar way, with his eyebrows drawn together like he’s hurting or sad. He bites his chapped lips, walks into the room.  
“I brought you some donuts”, he says, as if trying to act normal; then gives up on that. He sets the plastic bag on Josh’s bed, crosses the distance between them in a couple of steps, and wraps him up in a tight hug.

Josh doesn’t like to be touched, but he melts against Chris all the same, pressing his face against the crook of his neck and closing his eyes. The way Chris is squeezing him, with his hands wide open against his back, pressing him firmly against his body, makes Josh think maybe he wants to make sure Josh is really there, that he’s solid and real and alive.  
“Your nose is cold”, Chris chuckles, his voice tight. Josh lets his arms slide around him and hugs him back.

After a long time, they both sit on Josh’s bed and eat donuts, Chris talking about sneaking a laptop into the clinic so he and Josh can watch some movies, Josh observing him and feeling a lot less cold.

The rain finally starts falling.


	4. Chapter 4

“Why would you take that class at eight AM on Monday, when you can take the one in the afternoon on Wednesday?”, asks Ashley. Chris jumps.

She’s standing behind him, looking at Chris’ schedule as he fixes it carefully. She frowns at him.

“The sooner I do it the sooner I’ll be done with it?”, offers Chris, trying to sound convincing. Ashley glares at him.  
“I’m not stupid, Chris”, she says, and walks out of the little kitchen. Chris sighs, but keeps bunching all his classes in the morning anyway.

*

“I keep having this dream”, Josh murmurs, rubbing his eyes.  
“Uh?”, hums Chris, looking up from his textbook.

When he got there, Josh was taking a nap. He does that, he sleeps _a lot_. Spending time in the clinic, Chris has found out what a person looks like while they’re having a nightmare. Josh starts sweating, but his skin is cold to the touch; goosebumps fill his arms, and he keeps sucking in shallow, trembling breaths.  
Chris never knows whether to wake him up or not, because someone told him if you wake up someone while they dream, they’ll remember what they were dreaming, and that’s the last thing Chris wants.

“I dream all my teeth are falling out. They’re still a bit stuck to my gums, though, so I have to reach inside my mouth and pull them out, one by one. I can still taste the blood when I wake up. That feeling, it… sticks to my brain, you know? Even when I’m awake…”

Chris isn’t sure what to say. When _he_  has nightmares, they’re about Josh. Josh getting killed and maimed and eaten alive. He can’t tell him that.

“Might be a subconscious suggestion about oral hygiene”, he shrugs. Josh throws a pillow at him.   
“I’m serious!”, he says, but he’s grinning.   
Chris sits on the bed next to him, kicks off his shoes, wraps an arm around Josh’s shoulders.  
“When dreams stick to _my_  brain, I need cuddles”, he says.  
“Gay”, Josh snorts, but he curls up against him anyway.

He’s so close, trying to read the textbook Chris has started studying from again, that his eyelashes tickle Chris jaw. _‘Butterfly kisses’_ , Chris suddenly thinks. Maybe Ashley told him about them. Blink, blink, blink. Chris wants to turn around and press a kiss to the top of Josh’s head, but he doesn’t.

*

One day, when it starts snowing and Chris suspects they’re going to get snowed in again, he rummages through his old stuff and fishes a mobile phone. It’s not broken or anything, but Ashley gave him a new one for his birthday, so he stopped using it.

He gives it to Josh that evening, whispering: “Bro, do they do, like, random searches, here?”  
“It’s not a prison”, Josh says, with a chuckle.  
“Yeah, I know”, murmurs Chris, “But you’re not allowed to have a phone, right? You have to ask and use the one in the corridor.”  
“Yep.”  
“Well, this way you can call me if you need anything. Or send me a text, or something”, Chris says, “So if we get snowed in I can still hear from you.”  
Josh nods, taking the phone and switching it on. It’s got a picture of the two of them as the lockscreen. Chris hadn’t really paid attention to that.  
“Thank you”, Josh says, softly.

*

They don’t get snowed in, but Josh keeps sending Chris ‘good morning’ and ‘have a nice day’ and ‘goodnight’ messages all the same. It’s always the same words, but Chris can’t help feeling weirdly happy every time he receives them.

*

One night, Chris’ phone starts vibrating on the bedside table. He grabs it before Ashley can wake up, hurries to the bathroom, sits on the floor with his back to the door.  
“Are you all right?”, he asks.  
“No”, murmurs Josh. His voice sounds shaky, weak, “I don’t know…”  
“What happened?”  
“I woke up, and… I was sleeping, and I woke up, and I kept thinking… I wasn’t _thinking_ , it wasn’t something I _wanted_  to do, but I kept having all these thoughts in my head, I felt _so clearly_  that one day I’m going to die and it was like… like I could see forward in time, and I would be there in the blink of an eye, dead, and I wouldn’t have achieved anything in my life, and…”

“Josh, calm down. Breathe.”  
“All right…”, Josh murmurs. Chris can hear him try to relax, can hear him breathe in and out.  
“Start over. But slower.”  
“All right”, Josh repeats, “I woke up ten minutes ago. My heart was pounding, and I felt so… fragile. I felt _mortal_. I felt so very clearly that one day I was going to die, that I will be enveloped by nothing and just… stop being”, he stops talking for a moment, then whispers: “I was so scared…”  
“You’re all right”, says Chris, “I’m here, bro. You’re fine.”  
“I wish you were here”, says Josh.

Ashley is still in bed as Chris gets quietly dressed and sneaks out of the apartment.

It starts snowing ten minutes after Chris leaves the apartment. Big, fluffy snowflakes twirling all around him. There’s a siren howling in the distance, a dog barks from a balcony.

He calls Josh standing on the sidewalk across the street. Waves at him when he appears at the window.  
“I’m here”, he says, “See?”  
Josh rests a hand against the glass and doesn’t speak for a long moment.

*

He dozes off in the study hall. When he wakes up Ashley’s looking at him, a worried, intense look on her face.


	5. Chapter 5

“You look happy, today, Joshua”, comments Dr. Hill, as Josh plops on the couch.  
“I’m ok”, Josh says. He does feel better. He’s still pretty jumpy, and has nightmares all the time, and sometimes it takes a huge amount of effort not to hyperventilate for stupid reasons; but he knows, even in the worst case scenario, that Chris will be there in a matter of hours.  
“The director has come to the conclusion you don’t need any more ECT, for now”, Dr. Hill says, reading his notes, “You haven’t been acting up, you take your meds, eat properly… I think just the meds will be enough.”  
“Really?”, murmurs Josh, eyes wide.  
“Or course. We’ll see how that affects you in the next few weeks, and decide how to proceed from there”, Dr. Hill smiles. Then he adds, after a moment: “He’s having an incredible effect on you, your friend.”

*

Sam shows up unexpectedly, awkwardly holding some flowers the same way she would hold a shield, not looking him in the eye.

Josh had thought, up until then, to have reached some sort of emotional stability, or at least a vague balance of some kind. But when Sam shows up he just bursts into tears. It’s not that he means to, or he even just understands _why_  he’s crying; he just hiccups and then there’s no stopping.

The cold look in Sam’s eyes slowly disappears. She sets the flowers on Josh’s bed and wraps her arms around his neck.   
“I’m sorry”, she murmurs, “I was so _mad_  at you…”

She tells Josh that she’s been diagnosed with PTSD a few months ago. “I didn’t want to admit there was something wrong with me”, she says, sitting cross-legged on Josh’s bed, long blonde hair falling beside her face like a curtain, “I kept having flash-backs while doing completely innocent stuff. One time a kid yelled in the playground I was walking past and I froze and started crying.”

Josh is still sniffling, eyes raw and burning. He’s _so glad_  she’s there. So glad she doesn’t hate him.

“My therapist helped a lot. She also explained to me what a psychotic break is, and that… she said it didn’t justify what you did, that my rage was legitimate, but that you weren’t thinking straight when you did it”, she looks up at Josh now, looking somewhat angry, “Why didn’t you tell me? About the depression and the meds and everything? I thought we were _friends_.”

“I was ashamed”, Josh murmurs, “I still am. It makes me feel weak, that…”, he stops, bites his lips, “The only reason why Chris knows is because he was there when it happened. He found me and freaked out and called my parents. He had this stupid habit of climbing in my room through the window, he…”  
“But you were so _little_ ”, Sam murmurs, “How could you have been so little and so… desperate?”  
“It’s just my brain not working right”, shrugs Josh, “That’s what Dr. Hill says. I’ve been so angry at myself for so long, for the way I am. There was nothing wrong with my life, nothing sad about it. I had a family that loved me and a best friend who was like a brother to me and… I just… didn’t feel a thing. And at the same time, it felt like too much. I didn’t… I wasn’t trying to kill myself that time, you see, I just wanted to sleep…”

Sam doesn’t speak for a moment. She just holds Josh’s hand and looks at him. Her thumb brushes against the back of Josh’s hand.

“Think of it this way”, she says, “We’ve survived all of the things that could have killed us, so far.”

*

When Josh first got to the clinic, after being rolled into it strapped to a gurney, being asked a lot of questions he can’t remember, and having had a ton of medical exams done; while he was sitting on the floor, sedated but still terrified, Dr. Hill had given him a journal.

It wasn’t that fancy, just a bunch of A4s folded in two and stapled together, with a more rigid, light blue sheet as a cover.  
“This is yours”, he’d told Josh, “Nobody can read what you write in it, not even I, unless you give me permission. I want you to write anything that comes to your mind in there, anything you want. All right?”  
Josh had nodded, but just to make sure Dr. Hill left him alone.

For months and months, he hadn’t written a single thing, apart his name on the cover.  
It was nice, having something that belonged to him, but apart from that, he hardly had enough energy to _think_ , let alone write.

He started writing when Chris came back into his life.

Well, he didn’t start _writing_  as much as doodling. He’d stolen a crayon from the common room and spent most of his free time drawing and drawing and drawing. All of Chris’ silly expression, all his grumpy pouts and puppy-eyed pleas. It hadn’t taken long before he realized the blue journal only contained sketches of Chris.

*

“I met Emily and Matt”, Chris says. He and Ashley have baked cookies during the weekend, and he brought Josh some; they’re eating them sitting on the step under the window of Josh’s room.  
“Are they ok?”, asks Josh, in a whisper.  
“Oh, they’re fine. Emily said something…”, Chris shoos his own words away with a flicker of his hand, “Nevermind”, he says, with a little smile.  
“What did she say?”, asks Josh.

It must have been something mean. Emily usually does that. Her only moods are ‘mean’ and ‘brutally honest’, and most of the time Josh can’t really tell them apart…

“Well, I told her I would visit you today, and she said I’m crazy and said something about you being, hm… a ‘psycho matchmaker’”, he shrugs, “It wasn’t nice. And I didn’t get it, either. I mean, it _is_  true that Ashley and I sort of bonded over all the shit that went down at the lodge, but that wasn’t what you were trying to do, right?”

Josh blinks at him. He looks away.

“Oh”, murmurs Chris, “ _Oh_. Dude. Wow…”  
“I just… I wanted you to be happy. I think. I don’t know, I can’t… really remember the entire thought process that brought me to the whole plan. I know I wanted to… make things right. I guess…”  
“It’s all right, it’s… don’t worry about it, it’s done”, murmurs Chris, “Eat another cookie.”  
“You’re not mad?”  
“Nah. I mean, it kinda makes more sense, like this? Because I didn’t do anything, when… you know… so I was wondering why you hated me so much…”  
“I don’t”, says Josh, “I don’t hate you.”


	6. Chapter 6

Ashley is softly kissing Chris neck, Chris biting his lips and sneaking his hands underneath Ashley’s shirt, when his phone beeps. Then beeps again. And again.

“Sorry”, he says, grabbing it and reading the texts. Josh has apparently had a very vivid flashback dream about the mines, and he describes it to Chris and tells him he’s still shaking from it. Chris sighs. Ashley frowns at him.

“Chris”, she murmurs, “This needs to stop.”  
“What?”  
“You and Josh. He sees more of you than I do, and you _live_  here”, she says, leaning back against the armrest of the couch, “And you skip class and storm out in the middle of the night and don’t think I didn’t notice how jumpy you are. Every little sound makes you tense…”  
“He needs me”, Chris murmurs, though he knows she’s right. He’s trying so hard to be supportive, and the things Josh tells him, the things Chris figures out on his own, they’re getting to him…

“Fine”, sighs Ashley, rubbing her eyes and getting up, “I’m going to bed.”  
“Sorry”, Chris says again.  
He _should_  pay Ashley more attention. She’s his girlfriend, for fuck’s sake. And it’s not just some random crush, either, he was ready to die for her, he knows that for a fact.  
He’ll do better, he thinks, he’ll find a way to balance Ashley and Josh and…

He makes to grab his phone, but it’s not on the coffee table. How is it _not_  on the coffee table, he put it there just a minute before, it’s…

He sneaks towards the bedroom, quietly, spies inside through the door, and yes. Ashley’s sitting on the bed, Chris’ phone in hand, reading something.   
There’s a vague sense of irritation in the back of Chris’ mind, more because she could have just _asked_  to see whatever she was looking for than anything else. It’s not like Chris is hiding anything anyway…

He walks into the room, and Ashley looks up at him, her eyes wide. She doesn’t even try to justify the fact she’s invading his privacy, she just says: “I didn’t think it was so bad…”

*

“Mike dropped by”, Josh says. They’re sitting on his bed, Chris’ laptop balanced between them, watching Dr. Hill-approved cartoons.  
“Really?”  
“Yeah. It was awkward as hell. He just came here, gave me some cupcakes, a pat on the shoulder, and left.”  
“Weird”, comments Chris, “But progress. Right?”  
“I guess”, shrugs Josh, resting his head on Chris’ shoulder.

He’s much more affectionate now than he was before. Much more _physical_. Though Chris thinks it’s got something to do with the fact nobody really touches him, in the clinic. There’s no hugs and high-fives and tickle wars and accidental brushing of hands. It’s not that strange that Josh would want some cuddles…

“Did Sam visit again?”, Chris asks.  
“Yes”, Josh murmurs, then points at the wall, “She caught me doodling and volunteered as a model.”  
“Oh”, Chris says. He pauses the cartoon and gets up, walking closer to the bit of wall Josh has been sticking drawings on, “I hadn’t noticed that. It’s very cool, man.”  
“Thanks”, grins Josh.  
“There’s, hm… no pictures of me”, he says, frowning. They’re all there: there’s Hannah and Beth, Mike and Jess, Matt and Emily, Sam, there’s even pictures of Ashley, but none of Chris, “Am I really _that_  ugly?”, asks Chris, a bit worried.

Josh blushes. He actually _blushes_ , and looks so embarrassed.  
“You’re not ugly”, he murmurs.  
“Whatever, dude, I was kidding”, Chris says, walking back to the bed and sitting on it, “I mean, you can draw whoever you like. It just seemed a bit weird, that’s all.”  
He’s about ready to go back to the cartoons when Josh licks his lips and leans off the bed, opening a drawer in the bedside table and fishing up a blue notebook.  
“I do draw you”, he says, and hands the notebook to Chris.

There’s so many sketches of him, in there. Grinning broadly and making stupid faces and just looking distractedly in the distance or staring at his phone. He looks so much more attractive, the way Josh draws him, not the way he feels at all. He looks… effortless. Like he’s comfortable in his own skin, which isn’t the case at all, most of the time.  
He stops at a picture of a younger version of himself looking straight at him, eyes sleepy, hair all messy, a little pout on his lips. In the picture, he’s not wearing glasses, and he’s got a too-big shirt on, it slips off his shoulder, leaves his collar bones exposed.

“We were at the lodge”, Josh whispers, “The first time you spent the holidays there with me.”  
“Yeah”, says Chris, “I didn’t want to sleep alone in the guest room, and I sneaked into your bed…”  
He looks up at Josh. He’s not looking at him, Josh, just staring at his own hands.  
“Josh, this is, hm…”, says Chris, unsure how to properly say it. He doesn’t want to sound insensitive, or fuck it up, or anything… “It just looks like you like me _a lot_.”  
“I do like you a lot”, says Josh.  
“No, I mean, hm. In sort of a not just friendly sort of way.”

Josh doesn’t answer. He doesn’t laugh about it or deny it or get mad. He just looks up at Chris with an intensely sad look on his face, then looks away again.

“Jesus…”, Chris murmurs, “How long…?”  
“I’m not sure.”  
“Well, you need to give me an idea, Josh, because this is… a long time? Or is this a recent thing?”  
“Not that recent…”  
“ _Jesus_ , Josh!”, snaps Chris. Josh flinches.

Chris stands up, feeling like he’s on the brink of freaking the fuck out. He paces around, trying to figure out what the hell is happening.  
“Why didn’t you tell me? What the fuck, Josh, I needed to _know_  this.”  
“I wasn’t going to tell you…”  
“Were you ever even my friend? Like, _really_? Or did you just hang out with me because…?”  
“I was _never_  going to tell you”, Josh insists, looking straight at Chris. His voice shakes, but his tone is firm. “I didn’t become your friend just because I had a crush on you. That came much later. And I wasn’t going to let it get in the way of what we had anyway. I wasn’t going to act on it in any way. Ever.”

Chris stops pacing. His arms flop at his sides. His heart is still racing, but he’s vaguely calmer, now.  
“Then why did you want me to hook up with Ashley?”, he asks, frowning, “Why did you keep pushing me towards her?”  
“Because you’re my best friend”, Josh says, “And I wanted you to be happy.”  
“But doesn’t that hurt?”, asks Chris, then regrets saying it out loud.  
“Yeah”, murmurs Josh, with a little smile, “But it doesn’t matter.”

They both go quiet. Josh curled up on the bed, now hugging his knees; Chris standing in the middle of the room, looking shaken.

“Maybe I should go”, Chris says.  
The _terror_  in Josh’s eyes when he looks up at him as soon as he says it, the way his mouth falls open and his eyebrows are drawn together, like Chris just informed him he’s going to do something horrifying to him, make Chris’ heart jump in his throat.  
“I mean, not for good. Just now. To…”, he waves his hands around, “Figure this out.”  
Josh seems to relax a little, but he still looks like he’s on the verge of tears.  
“I’ll be back. I promise”, Chris says. Josh nods softly.  
“I wasn’t going to do anything about it”, he says again, weakly.  
“I believe you”, says Chris, “I’ll come back tomorrow, all right?”  
“All right”, sighs Josh.

*

Chris spends the night staring at the ceiling.

He does believe that Josh is his friend. He does believe he truly cares for him.  
But at the same time, he can’t help but feeling betrayed. Like Josh’s crush somehow spoils the whole thing. Like he had ulterior motives for being around him.

“Sleep”, Ashley snorts, the third time she wakes up and finds him with his eyes wide open and a troubled expression on his face.  
“I’m sleeping”, Chris murmurs, then he looks at her.

If she’d told him she wanted to be just friends, Chris wouldn’t have objected to that, he thinks. The reason why he likes her as a girl is also the same he likes her as a person: she’s good, and kind, and funny, and caring.   
What if Ashley hadn’t liked him _like that_? Would she have felt betrayed, too?

“Hey, Ash”, Chris murmurs, shaking her a little.  
“What?”  
“What if you didn’t want to be my girlfriend?”  
“What about it?”  
“Like… let’s say you didn’t like me. Like, _like_  like me. You thought I was a cool guy, but not the kind of guy you’d date, yeah?”  
“Yeah…”  
“What if since you didn’t want to date me, you just assumed we were bros, and then I told you: ‘Ash, I’m in love with you and I’ve been in love with you for ages’, what would you do?”

Ashley rolls on her back, her eyes still closed.

“I’d tell you ‘Chris, you’re cool, but no’.”  
“Would you still be my friend?”  
She chuckles, then sighs. “Guys don’t want to be friends with the girls they like.”  
“I’d be your friend”, Chris murmurs, snuggling closer.  
Ashley finally looks at him, a sweet, gentle expression on her face. “Of course you would”, she murmurs.  
“And you? Would you?”  
“Yeah”, she says.  
“Wouldn’t you think that I’m an asshole and that our friendship wasn’t real?”  
“Maybe with someone else, not with you.”  
“Someone like Josh?”

Ashley blinks at him, then frowns.  
“Josh?”  
“Yeah. Do you think he’d… be one of those guys who says stuff like ‘just friends’ instead of ‘friends’, like someone isn’t cool enough to be friends with if they’re not boning them?”  
Ashley raises a hand to Chris’ face. She brushes her thumb against Chris’ cheekbone, then follows the shape of his lips with it.  
“I’m not sure I know Josh well enough to know that”, she says, “But he never struck me as that kind of guy. I mean, he’s friends with Sam, isn’t he?”  
“Yeah”, shrugs Chris, “But I don’t know if he ever liked her.”  
Ashley snorts. “It’s Sam”, she says, “Of course he liked her.”  
“Wait. You think there was something going on between…”  
“Don’t be silly”, Ashley chuckles, “Sam doesn’t like guys.”  
“But she _flirts_  with guys!”  
“So does Mike, but he’s straight as fuck anyway.”  
“ _Dude_ ”, murmurs Chris.  
“Is there a reason why you’re worrying so much about this?”, asks Ashley.  
“Nope”, says Chris, way too quickly.  
“I’ll pretend I believe that”, says Ashley, snuggling against Chris and closing her eyes.

*

Josh is in the common room when Chris gets to the clinic. He’s sitting in the corner, next to a little bookshelf containing a pitiful collection of battered paperbacks, frowning at the pages of a pink-colored book.  
Chris sits next to him, leaning in to read over Josh’s shoulder.  
“Ew”, he says.  
“Yeah”, sighs Josh, “The author of this is _married_. Can you believe that? She’s probably had sex at some point in her life, and she still thinks feeling the guy ‘fill you with creamy seed’ is an actual thing that happens.”  
“Dude. Hearing you say that out loud is even worse than seeing it written down”, shudders Chris.  
“Yeah, well, there’s a bit here about the guy only poking the girl’s hymen with his dick so that ‘it’s not actually sex’ that’s even worse.”  
“Stop that”, says Chris, grabbing the book from Josh’s hands and staring at it, “Why the fuck are you reading this stuff anyway?”  
Josh shrugs. “Not much of a choice, really. I’ve read everything else. This would be much funnier if I had something to drink”, he sighs, tilting his head back and looking at the ceiling.  
“This doesn’t turn you on, does it? Teenage cheerleaders and step-dads?”  
Josh snorts. “No, it doesn’t”, he says, then groans a little, “Not that _anything_ turns me on, lately. Have you ever tried jerking off on antidepressants? It’s not fun at all.”  
“That sucks, bro”, says Chris. Josh shrugs.

“Listen, I’m, hm, sorry to interrupt your pseudo-incestual readings”, Chris says, making Josh chuckle, “But I’ve thought about it, and, you know. We can do this. I mean, you and I, we can… work things out. We’ve always done it so far, right?”  
Josh turns towards him, his expression unreadable.  
“You don’t think I’m a dick?”, he asks.  
“You’re my best friend”, Chris says, “I love you. Even when you act like a dick. Which isn’t what happened in this case, but, you know, it happens.”  
Josh learns into Chris, an arm around his shoulders, his forehead against Chris’ temple.  
“Thank you”, he whispers. Chris turns around so that their foreheads are pressed together, he brings a hand up to the back of Josh’s head, an intense wave of affection washing over him.

‘ _Mine_ ’, he thinks, ‘ _mine, mine, mine_ ’.


	7. Chapter 7

“You seem to always find a way to avoid the subject of your sister’s accident”, says Dr. Hill, gently.  
“I talk about it with Sam”, Josh says.  
“Not with Christopher?”, asks Dr. Hill.  
Josh shakes his head. “I think he wouldn’t mind if I did. But, you know… Sam understands. Because she was Hannah’s best friend, like Chris is mine, and she loved her a lot. So she knows”, Josh says.  
“Well, it’s good that you’re not bottling it all in”, says Dr. Hill, with a little nod, then: “Have you thought about what you’re going to do when you leave the clinic?”

Josh blinks at him.  
“When I leave the clinic?”, he murmurs.  
“Yes. You’re doing very well, you should probably start thinking about the future…”  
“I don’t”, says Josh, “I mean, I haven’t… I don’t really… feel like I have one.”  
“You don’t feel like you have a future?”  
Josh nods. “It just seems so useless to me… I know this stuff in my head is never going to go away, that I can just sort of put up with it and try to function, and I don’t know if I can do that. I know what it’s like when you let your guard down, and things seem to be going well, and you’ve got plans and you’re being productive and so on, and maybe it lasts a few weeks, maybe it lasts a few months, but it always ends…”  
“What you need to understand, Joshua, is that you’re more capable of living a normal life than you think you are”, says Dr. Hill, “You give yourself limits because you’re scared you’ll get hurt, or hurt somebody else in the process, but the limits you’re giving yourself aren’t accurate.”  
“Some days I can’t even get out of bed”, snorts Josh.  
“But you do get out of bed”, Dr. Hill insists, “You work very hard to get better, and it shows.”  
“But that’s the point!”, Josh says, “I work very hard, but I don’t _feel_  better.”

“Do you mean to tell me you think your condition is the same now as it was back in October?”, asks Dr. Hill.  
Josh hesitates. He shakes his head.  
“Can you tell me why?”  
“Because Chris and Sam are back”, he says, “And… it makes me feel a bit less alone. I mean, I still have those… I still sometimes think they only show up because they pity me, and that I’m actually a burden and so on, but I _know_  they care about me. I trust them.”  
“Anything else?”  
“I… what I want has changed, I think”, he says, “Before, I just wanted to disappear. Not even kill myself, really, just stop existing. And sometimes I want it now, too, but now I also want to… share my life with them. Get out of here and have a normal life, do the things people my age do, spend time with my friends in a place that actually has doors and doesn’t think a sliced apple is an acceptable dessert.”  
Dr. Hill chuckles. He writes something down in his notebook.  
“Basically what you’re saying is that you _want_  to get better”, he says.

Josh looks at him for a moment, then nods slowly.  
“Yes”, he says, “But you don’t get better, do you? You just learn how to live with it.”  
“Is there something wrong with that?”, asks Dr. Hill.  
“What do you mean?”  
“Well, take your friends, for example. They both suffer from PTSD. It’s not something they have any control over, the only thing they can do is learn how to handle it. Do you think they’re weak?”  
“No, I…”  
“Do you think it’s their fault they’re suffering?”  
“It’s not their fault…”  
“Do you think they are to be pitied?”  
“No!”  
“Then why do you judge and treat yourself so harshly for being in a similar situation?”

Josh opens his mouth to answer, but he can’t think of anything to say.

*

The mood swing comes unexpectedly and hits him like a ton of bricks.  
He’s just sitting on the step under the window of his room, Chris performing a dramatic reading of a smutty novel they stole from the common room, and suddenly Josh goes completely numb.  
It doesn’t last long; soon enough the numbness is substituted by an intense feeling of excruciating sadness. It dawns on him that he’s an awful human being, that he’s so worthless he couldn’t even manage to kill himself, not even accidentally. He feels his consciousness recede into the back of his mind, rests his head against the cold glass.

“Are you all right?”, asks Chris, setting the book aside.  
“It’s ok”, Josh murmurs, “It happens.”  
“What happens?”  
“Nothing, I’m just… it’s nothing.”  
“Tell me”, insists Chris, moving from the bed to the step, sitting facing Josh, their knees pressed together.  
“Sometimes I’m sad for absolutely no reason.”  
“That happens to everybody”, shrugs Chris.  
“I feel like existing is a useless thing. Like there’s no point in living at all, that studying and working and getting married and having children and all that stuff is just a waste of time, since in the end I’ll die anyway.”  
“Oh”, murmurs Chris, “But it’s not really a waste of time, is it? I mean, you get to experience all that stuff, that’s the whole point of doing things, that you’re… doing them.”

He must see his words aren’t helping much, because he sighs and reaches out, grabbing Josh’s hand.  
“Is there anything I can do to make it better?”, he asks.  
“No”, says Josh, with a little smile.  
“Would cuddling help?”, he murmurs.  
“Maybe”, Josh says.  
“Then come here”, Chris says, spreading his arms.

Josh crawls closer, meaning to just flop against him as usual, but Chris guides him on his lap instead, and Josh finds his head against Chris’ chest, his heart beating steadily underneath his ear.  
Chris holds him tight, running a hand against Josh’s back, his lips pressed to the top of Josh’s head. Josh closes his eyes and sighs deeply. It feels nice, being held like that. Chris is warm, and he smells nice, and the way he’s touching him makes Josh feel like purring.

Slowly, Chris’ hand moves to the back of Josh’s head, fingers combing Josh’s messy hair.  
Josh, still in a daze, shifts a little between Chris’ arms; he reaches out and touches his lips, softly, and Chris looks down at him.  
“Sorry”, murmurs Josh, “Sorry, I just… sorry.”  
Chris shakes his head; he grabs Josh’s hand and presses his lips against the back of it, and Josh feels like crying.  
“Chris”, he says, just to fell the his name against his tongue.  
“I’m here”, Chris says. Josh presses his face against the crook of his neck and bites down hard on his lips.

*

“You know what I miss?”, murmurs Josh, eyes on the door, the covers pulled up high to hide his mouth, the phone hidden by the pillow.  
“What?”, asks Chris.

It’s half past nine, thirty minutes after lights out. He has to whisper, so that the nurses don’t hear him. He’s lucky the corridor echoes so much, he can hear them coming as soon as they turn the corner.

“Music”, Josh says, “We can’t have radios in here, and we only have one hour of tv time. I miss music _so much_.”  
“Well, what do you want to listen to? I’ll find it on youtube and play it for you.”  
“‘Just like heaven’”, says Josh. It’s not really his kind of music, but he’s been craving to hear that song for _days_.  
“Ok”, says Chris, cheerfully.

Chris doesn’t talk through the song. He’s probably holding his phone near the speakers, Josh thinks, but he can hear him hum along.  
Josh closes his eyes and just listens.  
He hears Ashley’s voice in the background. Chris answers back.  
It makes Josh feel _so lonely_.

“Any other requests?”, asks Chris, once the song is over.  
“I’m good”, Josh murmurs, but what he actually wants to ask is for Chris to come and take him away from there.


	8. Chapter 8

Josh is curled up under the window when Chris walks in, hugging his knees and sobbing softly.  
Chris has to resort to all his self control not to panic.

“What’s wrong?”, he asks, sitting in front of Josh and squeezing his knee, “Why are you crying?”  
“I don’t know”, hiccup Josh, “It just happened, I don’t know.”  
“Is that, like, normal?”  
“Nothing about me is _normal_ ”, snort Josh, wiping the tears off his cheek.  
“Don’t say that”, says Chris, setting the paper bag filled with brownies he bought along the way on a chair nearby, “’Normal’ is just a social construct anyway…” Josh gives him a weird look. Chris shrugs. “I know stuff”, he says, defensively.  
Josh sighs, sitting up straight. It’s clear he’s doing his best to stop the tears from streaming down his cheeks, but he’s failing.  
“Why don’t you go wash your face?”, asks Chris, gently, “Then we’ll eat brownies and cuddle. Ok?”  
Josh nods weakly, then stands up. Chris follows him.

“Do you ever feel like you’re… not worthy?”, murmurs Josh. He’s just washed his face, but suddenly got still after grabbing the towel; little drops of water are falling from his face to the towel, tiny dark dots appearing on it.  
“Like, in a Thor kind of way?”, asks Chris, confused.  
Josh chuckles, but he doesn’t sound too convinced.  
“Like you’re just not worth anybody’s time. Or love.”  
“Sometimes I feel insecure about what I have to offer, I guess…”, says Chris, “Is that what you mean?”  
Josh shakes his head.  
“It’s more like a certainty than an insecurity…”, he sighs.  
“Dude. Bro, you’re worthy as fuck, all right? There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you.”  
“Apart from the fact I let my sisters die and almost got all of my closest friends killed, you mean?”, says Josh, his voice suddenly more firm.  
“That’s bullshit”, snaps Chris, “What happened to Hannah and Beth was out of your control. And you didn’t _mean_  to put us in danger, how were you supposed to know there were freaking meat-eating Smeagle monsters hiding on the mountain?”  
“Still”, shrugs Josh, “I’m hardly somebody people would want to spend time with. All I do is make everybody uncomfortable and sad.”  
“That’s also bullshit”, sighs Chris, walking up to Josh and grabbing the towel from his hands, finally drying up his face, “ _I_ want to spend time with you. And you don’t make me uncomfortable.”

“Sometimes I think you want to spend time with me because you feel bad about leaving me behind”, whispers Josh.  
Chris freezes. He gives Josh an intense look, then shakes his head.  
“That’s just the depression talking.”  
“Sometimes I think you’d feel so much better off if I just died in the mines…”  
“That is _not_  true!”  
“I wouldn’t be mad at you for thinking that. I understand…”  
“You’re such an idiot”, snorts Chris, throwing the towel on the sink, “I didn’t come back for you because I felt guilty, I came back for you because you’re my _best friend_ ”, he says, “And I know you don’t see it right now, but I do, ok?, I see if perfectly well, and let me tell you: you _do_  deserve love. Even if you don’t like yourself, that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve people who do like you and care about you. All right?”  
“You sound so sure…”, murmurs Josh, with a tiny little sarcastic smirk.  
“That’s because I love you. I do know what I’m talking about”, mutters Chris.

And he probably should have been a bit more diplomatic in his choice of words, because Josh starts crying again.  
“I wish I could believe you”, he says.  
Chris sighs; he walks up to Josh and wraps his arms around him, squeezing him in a hug. He moves away a bit, looking at Josh’s face. “Trust me”, he says, and Josh nods.  
Then Josh’s eyes flicker down to Chris’ lips, and he looks away. He just looks _so sad_.  
“Josh”, murmurs Chris. Josh looks at him again. “ _Please_ , trust me”, he says, and he kisses him.

Josh goes still. His fingers clutch around Chris’ shirt, and he makes a tiny little surprised noise in the back of his throat, but that’s it. When Chris’ tongue traces the shape of Josh’s lower lip, though, Josh melts against him. He tilts his head as Chris pushes his tongue inside his mouth, reaches up to touch Chris’ face.  
He feels so thin and fragile, Josh. Chris is afraid he’ll hurt him.

“Kids”, says the nurse, making both of them almost jump out of their skin, “Could you please make out in the bedroom, so I don’t have to come in? And keep it in your pants. You know the rules.”  
“Sorry, ma’am”, murmurs Chris, blushing so hard he’s pretty sure he’s emitting his own light. Josh just curls up against him, trying to make himself as small as he possibly can.  
“Have fun”, the nurse calls after them, as she walks away.

“Well, that wasn’t awkward at all”, murmurs Chris, realizing he’s still holding Josh, “You ok?”, he asks, since Josh hasn’t said a single word yet.  
Josh nods and squirms away from Chris’ arms, stiffly walking out of the bathroom, looking a bit shaken.  
“Are you sure?”, Chris insists, following him. Josh sits on his bed, biting his lips.  
“Why did you do that?”, he asks, sounding genuinely baffled.  
“What?”  
“Why did you _kiss me_. Jesus, Chris, you’ve got a girlfriend, you can’t just… kiss people…”  
“But you looked so sad…”  
“I don’t want you to kiss me out of pity”, snaps Josh.  
“No, it wasn’t… I didn’t mean that, how can you think I meant that?”, says Chris, sitting next to him, “I meant that you looked very sad and… well, you didn’t believe me when I said I care about you, so I thought, hm… I thought maybe that way you’d believe me. Because I don’t just kiss everybody, you know.”  
“That makes absolutely no sense”, says Josh, frowning at him.  
“Well, it made sense in my head!”, complains Chris, “I mean, people do that! Like, in other countries, people kiss other people in a platonic way!”  
“Yeah, they don’t do it with tongue, Chris.”  
“How was I supposed to know that?”  
Josh makes a sound between a snort and a chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re out of your mind”, he says.  
“Well, I never said I wasn’t”, shrugs Chris. Josh reaches out and cups his cheek with a hand, leaning in and pressing a little kiss against Chris’ lips. It’s an innocent kind of kiss, just their lips brushing softly, and something warm seems to bloom inside Chris’ chest.  
“See?”, he murmurs, “It’s not weird.”  
“It _is_  pretty weird”, chuckles Josh, and kisses him again.

*

There’s an insistent voice in the back of Chris’ head telling him he’s made things weird, he’s fucked it up; but when he gets to Josh’s room, there’s no tension in the air.

They eat the pizza Chris sneaked in and start making out twenty minutes after the start of the movie they were watching on Chris’ laptop, and it feels so _normal_.  
“Ok, let’s just…”, murmurs Chris, setting the laptop down on the floor and snuggling closer to Josh.  
Josh grins as he lies down and kisses Chris again.

And yeah, it does start as such an innocent thing, like when Chris was thirteen and got his first girlfriend and they would just mindlessly kiss for hours, without feeling the need to do anything more than that; but Josh is so warm and so familiar, and Chris’ finds himself wanting to _touch_.  
It’s not a dirty thing, he just wants to sort of remind himself he’s actually there, and he’s ok, and nobody’s trying to hurt him. He sneaks a hand inside Josh’ shirt, fingertips tracing shapeless forms on his skin, and Josh gasps against his mouth.

“Wait”, he murmurs, pushing Chris off. Chris wasn’t expecting Josh to do that, so at first he holds him a little tighter, and Josh’s crotch presses against his hip, the obvious bulge in his too-thin pants rubbing against him.  
“Oh”, Chris says. Josh squirms away.  
“Sorry”, says Josh, blushing. He gets up, looks like he’s about to freak the hell out, “ _That_  wasn’t friendly at all.”  
“I thought it was very friendly”, complains Chris.  
“Bro, it wasn’t. It wasn’t friendly. Friends don’t give each other boners.”  
“Depends on how hot they are, I guess?”  
“Chris. Jesus. This isn’t right”, insists Josh, “I know you’re trying to help, but… this isn’t fair. You’re with Ashley. You love her, and she loves you, and I don’t want to be the one to fuck everything up, all right?, I just want you to be happy…”  
“I’ll tell her”, says Chris, “I’ll explain it to her. She’ll understand.”  
“How can _she_  understand, when _you_  don’t even know what you’re doing?”, sighs Josh.  
“I know what I’m doing”, mutters Chris, “I think…”

*

Chris spends the entire walk home thinking about what he’s going to tell Ashley, and how. He should be careful about it, because he tends to think one thing and somehow manage to say another, and he could mess everything up; so he practices on the way there.

He’s going to tell her that the fact he kissed Josh doesn’t mean he doesn’t love _her_ , that there was no malice in what he did. That he’s got absolutely no doubt he loves her, that she’s amazing and he’s the happiest man in the world because he’s the one who gets to wake up next to her every morning.  
But he loves Josh too, and he needed to _show him_ , and that was the best way he could think of, and…

He climbs up the stairs repeating the entire monologue inside his head, but when Ashley opens the door, after ten minutes of Chris cursing between his teeth as he fights with the key, the words fly out of his head.  
“What’s up?”, Ashley says.  
“I kissed Josh”, Chris blurts out.

They just stand there, the open door between them, Chris still holding up the key. Ashley sighs.  
“Come in”, she says.

She does listen to Chris’ explanation, which turns out to be just as confused and weird as Chris was fearing, she doesn’t ask him anything, doesn’t make a sound. Once Chris is done, she says: “You know when I realized you did love me?”  
Chris opens his mouth, then closes it again. He wasn’t expecting _that_ , he was expecting to have to defend himself.  
“When you pointed that gun at your head and pulled the trigger. I thought: ‘this guy would die for me’”, she murmurs, with a sweet little smirk on her face. “Incidentally, that’s exactly the same thing I thought when you ran off to the mines to go get Josh. I thought you would die for him, too.”  
“Of course I would”, murmurs Chris, “He’s my best friend.”  
“Do you think the way you love me and the way you love him are different?”, Ashley asks.  
“Well, hm… I think, yeah…”  
“How?”  
“I don’t know, it’s just… it’s different.”  
“Because you want to have sex with me, but not with him?”  
Chris is about to say that yeah, that’s part of it, he doesn’t want to have sex with Josh, he’s never even thought of it, but then he does think of it. He thinks of the way Josh had gasped against his mouth, and shivers run down his spine.  
“You’re blushing”, Ashley comments.  
“It’s not like that”, Chris insists, “He’s my friend. We’ve been friends forever.”  
“We’ve been friends for years too, haven’t we?”  
“Yes, but…”  
“Did you want to be my boyfriend from the moment we met?”  
“Well, no, I just thought you were cool.”  
“So the whole thing evolved, right? With time.”  
“I guess.”  
“Cool. Then just think about it now, and tell me that you only love Josh like a friend. Tell me, and I’ll believe you.”

Chris looks at his hands.  
It should be the easiest answer in the world. He and Josh are basically brothers; they freaking grew up together, they know everything about each other, they even bicker like brothers do and then forget about it right away.  
But…  
“Shit”, Chris murmurs.  
“Yep”, says Ashley.  
“ _Shit_ , repeats Chris, then: “Why are you _not_  freaking out?”  
“I’m not blind”, shrugs Ashley.  
“What do I do now?”, Chris says, “I can’t just… what the fuck. Ash, I’m so sorry, I didn’t…”  
“It’s all right”, whispers Ashley, “I was sort of expecting it.”  
“You were?”, asks Chris, dumbfounded, “What. Why? How? _I_  wasn’t expecting it!”  
“Well, we both know it takes you a bit longer than usual to realize things”, grins Ashley.  
“Rude”, murmurs Chris, weakly. “But… I don’t know what to do. I fucked it up, haven’t I? Why do I always fuck everything up…?”  
“You haven’t fucked up anything yet”, says Ashley.  
“I’ll end up hurting him”, mumbles Chris, “I wanted to make him feel better and now he’s going to think I played with his feelings and…”

“Wait. What?”, frowns Ashley, “What do you mean you played with his feelings? You mean Josh likes you back?”  
“Yeah…”  
“Well, then what’s the problem?”, says Ashley, “If you like him and he likes you, then…?”  
“But I’m _yours_!”  
“Yeah, I get that, but… you know, you can like two people at the same time…”  
“You can?”  
“Do you?”  
“Well, yeah…”  
“Then there’s no problem. We can figure this out.”  
“Wait. You’re telling me you’re not jealous? And that it’s cool with you if I’m with Josh, too? That makes no sense!”  
“Listen, it’s _Josh_ ”, says Ashley, “I was worried about the effect his mental health would have on you, but it does look like you’re helping each other out, and I guess there’s no risk something like last year could happen again, if we’re… better friends than we were”, she sighs, “I would have a much harder time getting to terms with you having a crush on someone else, but as I said, I expected this could happen with Josh, and it’s all right with me. If it means nothing will change between us, that is…”  
“No, yeah, I don’t want anything to change”, says Chris, eagerly.  
“Great. Then I’ll come with you next time you visit Josh, and we’ll talk.”  
“All right…”  
“Relax”, says Ashley, jokingly punching Chris’ shoulder.


	9. Chapter 9

“Morning!”, smiles Ashley, walking into Josh’s room with flowers in her arms and her backpack almost falling off her shoulder.  
“Hello”, says Josh, a bit shyly. She kisses his cheek and lets the backpack plop on his bed, walking to the little table next to the window and setting the flowers on it. She grabs the vase on the table and carries it to the bathroom, throwing the withering flowers in the trash on her way there.  
“How’s the studying going?”, she asks, from the bathroom.  
“It makes my head hurt”, sighs Josh, “I think I’m not used to it anymore.”  
“You’ll get the hang of it”, says Ashley, coming out of the bathroom and putting the vase back on the table, then making sure the flowers are arranged properly in it. “You’re not trying to cram everything into a couple of hours of study a day, are you?”  
Josh blushes a little. “Kinda”, he says.  
“You should do it a bit at a time, take breaks and so on”, Ashley says, sitting on the edge of the bed.  
“I know. I just suck at it”, sighs Josh.  
“You’ll manage”, Ashley smiles, then grabs her backpack: “Chris said we can bring you food, so I made you some fruit salad”, she says, handing him a plastic container, “I figured something healthy would be nice, for a change.”  
“Thank you”, smiles Josh.  
“No problem”, grins Ashley, kicking off her shoes and sitting facing Josh, fishing a book from her backpack.

Josh does like this. He likes that Ashley’s started hanging out with him in the morning. Chris usually visits in the afternoon, so, apart from the times Sam can visit, Josh’s mornings are terribly boring.  
Plus, Josh likes Ashley. He wouldn’t have tried so hard to make Chris confess his love for her, otherwise. She’s nice, and nerdy, and she wears her emotions very close to her skin, which is something Josh appreciates, since it’s not always that easy for him to figure out what goes on in people’s heads.  
He _is_  pretty freaked out by the way the situation evolved, though. He does feel embarrassed when she’s around, because there’s a part of him that thinks he and Chris are doing something wrong; but Ashley didn’t seem like she was making any compromises when she visited him for the first time, she didn’t seem to be making sacrifices just to keep Chris. She actually does seem to believe there’s nothing weird with Chris being in love with both of them…

“Have you heard back from your parents yet?”, asks Ashley, softly.  
Josh blinks, coming out of his reverie. “Uh? Oh, yeah…”, he murmurs.  
“They aren’t making problems, are they?”, frowns Ashley, worried.  
“No, on the contrary. My mom said she’s _thrilled_  to have me back.”  
“Then what’s wrong?”, says Ashley.  
“She was lying”, Josh says, “I know I… I think that a lot about everybody, all right? But she _was_. You know when people try very hard to look happy and they do it too much? Well, she sounded like that.”  
“I’m sure she’s just nervous…”  
“She said we should take a trip to Europe as soon as I get home”, Josh sighs, “She doesn’t want her friends to see me being all mentally ill all over her pretty house.”  
“Josh…”  
“My dad didn’t even want to talk to me. He answered the phone and immediately handed it over to my mom.”

Ashley doesn’t say anything for a moment, then closes her book and sighs deeply.  
“It’s fine. You’ll stay with us”, she says, “The apartment is big enough. Plus, we’re close to the clinic, so you won’t have to wake up every morning at six AM to come get checked. And our neighborhood is really nice, there’s this really cool cinema with little couches for couples, and there’s a sushi place right on the corner. And the park, it’s like a fifteen minute walk from the apartment, it’s great.”  
She look so excited about it, about showing Josh all of the things he’s missed. The embarrassment Josh felt at the thought of his parents seeing him as a burden fades slightly.  
“I don’t want to bother you…”  
“You won’t”, says Ashley, “It’ll be fun.”  
“Won’t it be weird?”, asks Josh, “With us and Chris, I mean?”  
“We’ll figure it out”, Ashley says, “Don’t worry. We’ll take care of you.”  
Josh smiles.

*

“Oook!”, says Chris, leaving the bag that probably contains Josh’s clothes on the bed. “That was pleasant. I didn’t know what to take, so I packed pretty much your entire wardrobe. And by ‘packed’ I mean ‘stuffed everything in trash bags’, just so you don’t get your hopes up.”  
“I have absolutely zero hopes about you being tidy, don’t worry about it”, grins Josh.  
“Don’t be mean”, whines Chris, “I’m tidy as fuck.”  
“In your dreams”, chuckles Josh. Chris groans and wraps his arms around Josh’s waist, flopping on him. “Come on, let me get dressed!”, complains Josh, but he doesn’t try to move away, he just looks back and presses a kiss to the side of Chris’ head.  
“Can I watch?”, says Chris.  
“Get out”, snorts Josh.

“I washed and ironed those”, says Chris, from the corridor, sounding pretty proud, as Josh puts on a pair of jeans.  
“When did you suddenly become a responsible adult?”, laughs Josh, but he does appreciate the fact Chris even just thinking about doing that.  
“I don’t know. I’m kinda scared about it, to be honest”, Chris says.  
Josh zips up his jeans and wears the hoodie Chris brought him. He hadn’t even thought about how _relieved_  he would be to wear his own clothes. He’s spent so long wearing a hospital gown and only occasionally shapeless shirts and pants, he’d forgotten how comfortable his own things were.  
“I still don’t know how to use the cappuccino machine, though. It’s scary. It vibrates and stuff”, Chris mutters.  
Josh crumples up the empty plastic bag and stuffs it in his backpack, then hoists that up on his back and walks out in the corridor. It’s a bit sad, knowing everything he owned for the past fifteen months can fit in the same backpack he used during highschool.  
“Ready?”, asks Chris, grabbing Josh by the waist and briefly pressing their foreheads together.  
“Yes”, says Josh.  
“Are you scared?”  
“Just a little”, admits Josh.  
“I can hold your hand”, Chris offers.  
“Dick”, snorts Josh, but he does grab Chris’ hand as they walk down the corridor.

*

The party is nice; there’s a lot of food and Sam made a mixtape for the occasion and nobody treats Josh like he’s on the brink of falling to pieces.  
Even Mike and Jess are there, and for some reason they both seem very glad to see Josh, and hug him very tight. Matt and Emily are in France, Mike says, officially to study French, non-officially to do anything _but_  study French.

Even more than the party itself, Josh likes what comes afterwards. The apartment is quiet, and Josh helps Ashley and Chris clean up and washing the dishes. It just feels the exact opposite of what the clinic felt like, it feels like he’s not a guest, like this is his home.  
“Gonna crash”, says Ashley, “You boys bring out the trash and go to bed.”  
“Ok, boss”, says Chris, saluting her as she walks out of the kitchen.  
The light in the kitchen is cold, it makes Chris look almost unreal. Josh’s hands itch to draw him like that, with his head vaguely tilted and his lips pursed in a pout as he checks his phone.  
Chris catches Josh looking and grins at him.  
“Why don’t you go to bed? I’ll bring the trash out and come cuddle.”  
“With me?”, asks Josh, “Aren’t you going to sleep in your own bed?”  
“Not tonight”, smiles Chris, circling the table and putting two fingers under Josh’s chin, making him look up and kissing him. Josh closes his eyes, warmth bubbling in his chest. It makes him both happy and terribly afraid, how perfect his day has been; perfect days are usually the prelude to the worse of relapses…  
“Unless you want some space, that is…”, whispers Chris, against Josh’s lips.  
“I really don’t”, murmurs Josh.

“Bro, you have _no idea_  how good it feels, lying in a real bed”, Josh sighs, as Chris sneaks underneath the covers with him. Chris answers by pressing his cold nose against Josh’s neck, and his feet against Josh’s calves.  
“I’m glad you like it”, murmurs Chris.  
The orange light from the streetlights rains inside. Chris’ hand is running up and down Josh’s stomach, he presses his lips to the spot behind Josh’s ear. Josh rolls on his side and kisses him, fingers running through his hair.  
“Right”, Chris whispers, and rolls on top of Josh, pressing him down against the mattress, sucking on his lower lip as he breaks the kiss. He presses his open mouth to Josh’s neck, humming as he sucks a bruise on it. His knee softly presses against Josh’s crotch, and Josh flinches.  
“Sorry”, murmurs Chris, “Too much?”  
Josh shakes his head; he cups Chris’ face with his hands and pulls him down for a kiss, bucking his hips up to rubs himself against him. Chris moans into the kiss, and Josh grins.  
“It’s probably a good time to mention I have no idea how to handle a dick”, Chris says, panting.  
“Probably no use in trying to handle mine, right now”, says Josh, “I mean, I do like you grinding on me and stuff, but, you know…”  
“Antidepressants. Right. Forgot about that”, sighs Chris, “So just cuddles?”  
“Just cuddles”, murmurs Josh, “But doc Hill did say he’s going to try changing my meds, maybe that’ll help.”  
“Ok”, says Chris, planting kisses against Josh’s face.  
“Doesn’t mean I can’t, you know… give _you_  a hand”, whispers Josh.  
“Oh”, says Chris, perching up on an elbow and looking at him, “Really? I mean, no, I’m good.”  
“Are you sure?”, asks Josh, giving Chris’ cock a nice little squeeze through his pajama pants. He does like the feel of it, he wouldn’t mind just…  
“When we’re both in the mood, ok? I want it to be good”, Chris says.  
“Ok”, Josh murmurs, “Keep kissing me, then”, he smirks, against Chris’ mouth.

Josh wakes up all tangled with Chris; Chris’ head is resting against Josh’s chest, an arm protectively thrown around him, Josh’s leg hooked over Chris’ waist.  
The sun is up, shining feebly; there’s the murmuring sound of a thin sort of rain falling. From the kitchen comes a soft song, and the sounds of Ashley probably making breakfast.  
Josh tries to ignore the mean voice inside his head telling him that he’s been completely happy for too long, something’s gonna go wrong, something’s going to hurt him. He presses a kiss to Chris’ forehead, holds him a bit tighter.  
Chris hums and opens his eyes. He blinks a couple of times, then grins sleepily at him.  
“Morning, bro”, he murmurs, snuggling back against him.  
“Morning, Cochise”, says Josh, smiling against Chris’ hair.

*

Ashley leaves Josh candies near the place on his desk were he keeps his meds. When she has to leave the house early, she leaves him post-its with smiley faces on them and ‘good morning’ written on them in round letters. She walks him to the clinics in the morning she doesn’t have classes, she makes sure he’s warm, occasionally pushes one of her fluffy beanies on his head before they leave.

Chris looks at them like he can’t believe how lucky he is. Sometimes he flops between them when they’re on the couch, talking, and demands cuddles like a giant puppy; he closes his eyes when Josh plays with his hair.

Sitting on the armchair, sketchbook propped on his knees, doodling Ashley and Chris as they sit at the table in the living-room, books spread in front of them, looking all serious and focused, Josh realizes he has never, in his whole life, felt like he belonged somewhere as much as he feels it now.

*

Josh wakes up from a nightmare to find Ashley sitting on the edge of his bed, shaking him up.  
“You were screaming”, she says, eyes wide.  
“Sorry”, whispers Josh, “I’m so sorry…”  
“It’s all right. Come on, get up. You’re all sweaty”, Ash says, grabbing Josh’s hand and guiding him out of bed.  
She leaves him in the bathroom and goes to get him dry clothes. She waits out, her back to the open door, as Josh gets changed.  
“I have nightmares too”, she says, “They used to be pretty weird. This one time I dreamed I was on the roof of a building and a giant wave was going to crash on the city underneath; I could see the people running away from it, but I knew they couldn’t make it. They were tiny, like ants, but I could hear them scream. Then the wave slammed down and washed them all away; they kept bobbing up and down in the water, but the current pulled them down. I could only watch. It was… not nice.”  
“That sounds horrible”, says Josh. He doesn’t want to tell her about _his_  nightmares. They’re way more explicit than hers, and Ashley is such an empathetic person, he’d end up upsetting her.  
He steps out of the bathroom. Ashley wraps holds Josh’s hand again, guiding him towards her bedroom.  
“Get in”, she says, “I got your pillows.”  
Josh gives her an unsure look, but he does sneak under the covers, snuggling between Chris and Ashley. She wraps her arms around him, and Josh rests his head against her chest and closes his eyes.

*

One time, after a sleepless night, Josh walks back into the bedroom at dawn, looks at Chris and Ashley holding each other in their sleep, and feels a knot in his throat. The cold light of dawn seeps in through the window, blueish and pale.  
Standing there, right before crawling under the covers, he thinks he’s very glad he didn’t manage to kill himself.


	10. Chapter 10

Chris is quickly scribbling notes when his phone starts vibrating, Ashley’s picture popping up on the screen.  
Ashley does know when Chris’ classes are, so _something_  has probably happened. Right around now, she should be coming back from the clinic with Josh.  
Chris quickly throws all his stuff in his backpack and hurries out of the classroom, calling Ashley back.  
“What is it, is everything all right?”  
“Josh can’t wake up”, Ashley says, alarmed, “He just keeps dozing off, I couldn’t even get him out of the door! What do I do?”  
“Just… hold on, I’ll be right there. I’m going to call Dr. Hill on the way there. Don’t panic.”  
“Ok. Ok. Don’t panic”, murmurs Ashley. Chris hangs up.

Chris runs all the way back home, and he still reaches home barely minutes before Dr. Hill. He’s trying to get the gate to open when the doctor parks his car on the other side of the road and runs up to him.  
Ashley opens the door before they even get up the stairs. She’s probably been staring out of the window since Chris hung up. She walks back into the living-room, pacing around and chewing on her nails as Dr. Hill sits on the couch were Josh is lying and shakes him softly.  
“Joshua”, he says, “Wake up.”  
Josh opens his eyes. He looks at the doctor, blinking hard, then just dozes off again.  
“Is he going to be all right?”, asks Chris, his voice tight.  
Dr. Hill checks Josh’s pulse, he gently opens one of Josh’s eyes and looks at it.  
“He’s fine”, he says, “He’s changed meds, yesterday, this is most likely an effect of that. I will see to that”, Dr. Hill says, “For now, just let him sleep this off.”

Chris manages to convince Ashley to go to class. “I’ll keep you updated”, he says.  
Once she’s gone, he flops on the armchair and sighs deeply.

Josh sleeps for almost  twenty whole hours. Chris keeps count. When he wakes up, in the middle of the night, he looks like he may just lie down again and sleep another twenty hours. His eyes are all puffy and his hair all ruffled. He pouts as he rubs his eyes.  
“What happened?”, he asks, “Why are you sleeping on the armchair?”  
“Your nap got out of control”, says Chris, softly, “I didn’t want you to wake up all alone in here.”  
“My head hurts”, mutters Josh, “And I feel so weak…”  
“That’s probably because you didn’t have anything to eat all day”, says Chris, “I’ll get you something.”  
“Sorry I’m always such a fucking weight for you guys”, murmurs Josh, flopping back on the couch.  
“You’re not a weight”, says Chris, kneeling down on the floor and pressing his forehead to Josh’s, “You’re my partner. Partners cover each other’s back”, he grins, rubbing his nose against Josh’s. Josh chuckles at that, raising a hand to the back of Chris’ head.

*

 Josh looks like he’s not entirely happy to be going on a trip. He doesn’t complain, or ask to be left behind; his bag is ready by the night before they leave.  
But he’s very quiet and looks out of the window for most of the first few hours of driving. When Ashley announces she’s going to take a nap and climbs on the backseat, and Josh takes her place in the passenger seat, Chris gives him a look and asks: “Everything all right?”  
Josh shrugs.  
“Want to talk about it?”, Chris insists.  
Josh shrugs again, then groans. “It’s just… I guess I’m kinda scared? I don’t know, I just… feel like something bad is going to happen. I always feel like something bad is going to happen when I do stuff I’m not comfortable with, I _know_  nothing’s going to happen, and I’ll probably have fun, but… I don’t know. It’s just how my brain works.”  
“It’s going to be fine”, Chris says, “It’s just gonna be us. And the sea. It’s going to be sooo romantic.”  
“You’re hoping for a threesome, aren’t you”, smirks Josh, “You pervert.”  
“A man can dream”, laughs Chris.  
“Not happening”, mutters Ashley, from the backseat.

The cottage on the beach is tiny, just three rooms, but looks clean and cozy, and the view is gorgeous.  
Josh lingers on the porch, looking at the at the ocean. Chris observes him as he makes dinner; he watches as Ashley walks outside and hugs Josh from behind, squeezing him tight and whispering something in his ear. Josh turns around so that he can hug her properly, he rests his chin on the top of her head.

The moon is very bright, that night. After dinner, Chris and Josh go for a walk on the beach, while Ashley takes a nap on the porch. “Wake me up at dawn”, she murmurs, before they leave.  
Josh grabs Chris hand as they walk. He looks calmer, but that hint of sadness on his face doesn’t seem to want to leave.  
The ocean is pitch black, it moves like something alive. The moon projects silver sparks on the surface of it, like a ghostly road to the horizon.  
“It’s nice”, Josh murmurs, sounding almost afraid raising his voice will break the spell.

Chris stops walking and pulls Josh closer, still holding his hand. He wraps his free arm around him, kisses him deeply. The silence around them, broken only by the gentle crashing of the waves, is so deep Chris can hear the little sound their lips make when they separate.  
“We’re all alone”, says Josh, a hand running against Chris’ chest.  
“Yeah.”  
“Nobody around for miles.”  
“Yeah…”, breathes out Chris, kissing him again, this time harder, and dragging him down on the sand with him.

Josh lets him; he lets Chris pin him down and bite his lips and rubs himself against him. He licks his lips and presses his head back against the sand when Chris manages to squirm his way between Josh’s legs and roll his hips forward. It’s only when Chris reaches out and strokes Josh’s dick through his shorts that Josh moves, wrapping his legs around Chris’ waist and rolling them over.  
“Oh. Oh, ok. Wow”, murmurs Chris, instinctively grabbing Josh’s waist to help him keep his balance.  
Josh smiles as he leans forwards and kisses Chris. He keeps moving his hips, grinding down against Chris, his erection sliding against Chris’.  
“Can we just, like, take our clothes off?”, whines Chris, hands trying to guide Josh’s rhythm, urging him on.  
“Patience, Cochise”, murmurs Josh, kissing him again.  
And Chris does try to relax, but the friction is not even _nearly_  enough, and Josh moves so slowly, it’s making him crazy.  
“Please”, he murmurs, almost in a sob, “Please, just…”  
“All right”, chuckles Josh, “Let’s go back to the cottage.”  
“What? Can’t we just…”  
“Nope”, says Josh, “Sand and sex don’t really go well together.”  
Chris groans as he gets up, his dick throbbing uncomfortably, “All right, all right, let’s hurry up, come on, bro”, he says, pushing Josh, who laughs and starts running.

They get sand all over the floor, and the light from the bathroom looks almost violent when they turn it on to get under the shower, but Chris only cares for as long as it takes for Josh to ditch his clothes.  
He’s still too thin, and he’s got scars here and there from what happened back on the mountain, and the scars on his wrists are still angry pink and shiny, but Chris can’t stop looking at him, at the curve of his back and line of his collarbones and the way his muscles move underneath his skin. He’s still hard, too, and Chris has never really had another guy stand in front of him fully naked and aroused, and for a moment his brain short-circuits and he just _stares_.  
“Come on”, murmurs Josh, putting both hands on Chris’ waist to make him move. His lips make such a pretty movement when he say that.  
Josh giggles and teases him under the shower, he does look like he’s concentrating on getting the sand off of both of them, but Chris can’t help but touch him. He runs his hands against Josh’s hips, then back up across his back, he pulls him closer to feel their bodies pressed together, sighs against his mouth before kissing him, quick and shaky.  
“Are you all right, bro?”, asks Josh, softly. Chris nods, but he does feel a bit overwhelmed.  
“You’re just… I’m…”  
“Hey, relax”, chuckles Josh, “One word at a time…”, he kisses the corner of Chris’ mouth, his thumb brushing against Chris’ jaw.  
“You’re beautiful”, Chris says, though it’s not exactly what he was thinking about. It sounds so… reductive. And yeah, he does think Josh is beautiful, but he’s also _so happy_  Josh even just exists, and he’s happy he’s alive, and that they’ve survived, and that they met all those years back, and that they’re together now, and he just wants to let him know just how much he means to him, but he’s not sure he knows the words to do it.  
But maybe, maybe the way Josh’s eyes go warm when he looks at him and whispers: ‘thank you’, maybe it means Chris doesn’t need to say all those things out loud.

Chris’ hand shake as he works Josh open, and he’s so so scared he’s going to do something wrong.  
There’s light pouring in from the big window, from the one lightbulb hanging on the side of the house, and a warmer kind of light on the floor, filtering though the almost-closed door, forming an elongated shimmering fan on the floor and wall; it falls right on Josh’s chest. Chris wants to lean in and lick at it.  
“It’s ok”, Josh whispers, “It’s ok, I’m good. Come on…”  
The condom almost slips out of Chris’ hands, still all slick with lube, he has to try a few times to get the wrapper open.  
“Do you want me to do it for you?”, asks Josh. He sits up before Chris can answer, grabs the condom from his hand and unrolls it down the length of Chris’ cock, then wraps his hand around it and squeezes gently.  
“Come on”, he repeats, lying back down, guiding Chris’ cock against his hole, “You’re not going to break me, don’t be scared”, he says.  
“I’m not scared”, mutters Chris, “I’m terrified…”  
Josh chuckles, he presses a smacking kiss to Chris’ temple, wraps his legs around Chris’ waist to pull him closer, and Chris finally pushes in a bit harder. It takes a bit of maneuvering, because Josh is _so tight_ , and Chris has no idea just how much strength will end up hurting him. He goes still when he’s all the way inside him, feeling a bit overwhelmed.  
“Chris”, says Josh, reaching down and grabbing his butt with a hand, “ _Move_.”  
“Yeah, right. Move…”, mumbles Chris; he gets a bit lower, lets Josh wrap an arm around his shoulders, and rolls his hips tentatively, then a bit faster.  
“Come on, Chris, just…”, groans Josh, and Chris pulls almost all the way out then slams back inside him with a fluid roll of his hips. Josh moans, nails pressing into Chris’ skin. “Oh, just like that”, he whines, “Just like that, please…”; and Chris obeys.

It takes him a while, but once he figures out he’s not doing any damage, Chris just lets go.  
He thrusts into Josh good and hard, and Josh clings to him, pressing his face against Chris’ shoulder and moaning loudly. He feels so damn good, so hot and tight. Chris grabs the backrest of the bed as he fucks him, and Josh tugs at his hair and whines, his hard cock rubbing against Chris’ stomach.  
Chris is vaguely aware of the fact he’s talking, whispering something into Josh’s ear as he reaches down and strokes his cock, rubbing his thumb against the already leaking head of it. Josh sighs. He sits back up, Chris, and Josh flops on the bed, arms at the sides of his head, looking up at him, his eyes dark.  
Chris tries to coordinate his movements, the way he pushes into Josh and the way he strokes his cock. He likes it when their bodies are pressed together, but he also likes the view he gets now, Josh sprawled underneath him, his head pressed back against the pillow, his back arching when Chris’ rhythm gets faster.  
Then Josh reaches down between his legs and starts pulling at his cock himself, biting his lips and giving Chris an intense look. Chris grabs Josh’s hips and starts guiding him down to meet his thrusts. Josh’s mouth falls open. He swallows down a sob and wraps his hand around the base of his dick, keeping it there; his other hand grips at the headrest so hard his knuckles go white.  
“Josh”, murmurs Chris, leaning down a bit and kissing him, “Josh…”  
Josh looks at him, blue eyes stormy. He kisses him back, perching up on his elbows. Chris fucks into him, he means to sit back up, but Josh reaches out and grabs a handful of his hair, keeping him still.  
“Look at me”, he murmurs. Chris is so very close, he bites his lips and presses his forehead against Josh’s and almost closes his eyes, and…  
“Look at me”, Josh repeats, tugging at Chris’ hair. Chris obeys. He slams into him and breathes against his mouth and he’s staring right into his eyes when his rhythm falters and his thrusts get harder and sloppy and he comes, a little chocked noise escaping his lips and immediately stolen away by Josh’s kiss.

He collapses down on the bed, feeling boneless and shaken, but doesn’t waste time trying to catch his breath. He squirms on his side, wraps an arm around Josh’s shoulders and digs the other between Josh’s legs. He jerks Josh off slowly, wanting to make it last, wanting to see that helpless look on Josh’s face for as long as he can. Josh doesn’t seem to have any objections to that; he tries not to buck his hips into Chris’ hand, he doesn’t reach down to get more friction. When he comes it’s like Chris tore the orgasm out of him, it’s slow and intense and lasts longer than Chris was expecting, and Josh gasps and moans all the way through it, fingers clutching against Chris’ arm. He shakes like a leaf, Josh, curls up against Chris and hides his face against the crook of his neck, his heart drumming furiously against Chris’ chest.  
“Are you all right?”, asks Chris, gently. The ocean air has made Josh’s hair curl up nicely, it feels so soft against the side of Chris’ face.  
“I’m ok”, Josh whispers, breathless. “ _God_ , that was… holy shit…”  
“That’s one way to put it”, chuckles Chris, wriggling around until his head is at the same height as Josh’s and kissing him on the nose. Josh bursts into laughter and pushes him off without much conviction. Chris grabs his hand and starts kissing him all over his face. Josh has to lick him to make him stop.  
“Ewww!”, whines Chris. Josh laughs and straddles him, grabbing his wrists and pinning them above his head to make sure Chris can’t tickle him.  
“I don’t know if I’ve ever told you”, he says, “But I love you so much.”

They’re both showered and dressed when it’s time to wake Ashley up. They sit all together on the big wicker couch out on the porch, all tangled with each other in the chilly morning, and watch the sky as it fades from deep blue into a multitude of colors. There’s pink and gold and orange and peach and violet and purple and even green. The stars disappear as color spreads around the dome of the sky, and then leaves the way to a bright, flawless baby blue.  
“It’s not that bad, is it?”, asks Ashley, her head resting on Josh’s shoulder.  
“It’s pretty cool”, Josh agrees. He looks tired as hell, but he’s smiling so hard.


	11. Chapter 11

The window in Dr. Hill’s office is open wide. Summer is coming, and Josh gets a bit lost looking out of the window as he waits for the doctor to come back, observing the huge, puffy clouds move across the sky like weightless cathedrals.   
“Sorry”, says Dr. Hill, walking in, “Where were we?”  
“I decide to go back to college”, says Josh, “I mean, it’s a miracle they actually accepted to have me back, so I thought… I can’t just miss this chance, I guess”, he shrugs.  
“You don’t look too excited”, comments Dr. Hill.  
“Oh, I am! I can’t wait to actually have something to do with my time, and Sam said she would help if I still have problems studying. I’m just… there will be a lot of people, you know, a lot of me having to talk to people and stuff…”  
“You did tell me interacting with people is always easier than what you thought it would be”, reminds him Dr. Hill.  
“Well, yeah, but I can’t get my brain to actually believe that, even if I do know it”, sighs Josh.

Dr. Hill doesn’t talk for a moment, then smirks and shakes his head.  
“What?”, asks Josh, “What did I say?”  
“Nothing, nothing… you put on some weight”, he says, “Your face looks rounder.”  
“Oh. Yeah.”  
“You look good”, says Dr. Hill, “I’m glad. You know…”, he adds, putting his pen down, “I’ve always known you would make it. You’ve always been a strong boy. You got back up every time you got hurt, even when you were a child”, Dr. Hill says, with a smile; “When you arrived here last year, I tried to convince the director not to opt for ECT. You see, ECT is what we use when we want something that’ll put the situation back under control quickly, it’s effective very fast, but doesn’t help for long. Six months, maybe, maybe a year, then people relapse, and they relapse hard. I knew the director choosing ECT meant he didn’t believe in you.”

Josh looks at him, and suddenly Dr. Hill looks so old to him. He’s known him for years, and he’s always thought he never changed, but he  _has_  changed. There’s something vulnerable about him, something so very _human_ , so different from the scary stern doctor Josh met when he was eleven…

“I managed to at least convince him to let me keep you on meds. I was hoping I could change his mind.”  
“You did”, says Josh, “Didn’t you?”  
“ _You_  did”, says Dr. Hill, “When we stopped the treatment after your attempted suicide you showed considerable progress. And you kept getting better.”  
“But I didn’t _feel_  better”, murmurs Josh, “I don’t really feel better _now_. Sometimes I catch myself being happy, and… when I realize it, that’s when things get bad. Because I know that the longer I feel good the worse it will be when something bad happens…”  
“Think about when you first came to the clinic last year”, says Dr. Hill, “You were alone and in pain, you kept seeing things that weren’t there and hearing voices in your head. You were convinced living wasn’t worth the effort. And now you’ve got your friends back, you’re making plans for the future…”, Dr. Hill gets up, circling his desk and leaning back against it. “I know the thought of living scares you. I know you’re worried about all the effort you’ll have to put into doing the simplest things. But you will make it, Joshua. You’re a fighter, you’ve always been.”

*

“ _Stop that_ ”, Jess whispers, throwing a crumpled piece of paper at Mike. She gets him right in the between his eyes. Mike giggles and hides behind Sam, who just sighs and shakes her head, then uses her notebook to deviate another paper-bullet.  
“Wow”, comments Jess, watching the trajectory of the crumpled paper. It falls behind a shelf. There’s an alarmed: ‘ _what the fuck_!’, from the other side. Mike has to press both hands to his mouth not to burst into laughter, he almost falls off his chair.  
“Hm, excuse me? Someone’s trying to study, here”, says Emily, even though what she’s actually trying to do is take a nap on her math textbook. Both she and Matt are still on European time, but Matt drank three coffees already, so he’s basically vibrating instead.

The weather is starting to get chilly again; the trees outside the huge windows of the library sway, reddish leaves whirl around frantically.   
Ashley has given Josh a big scarf and floppy red hat. He’s still wearing the hat, even inside.

Josh leans back on his chair, doodling on the side of the book he’s reading.  
It feels a little bit like a miracle, being there.

Chris looks so focused as he studies, his laptop in front of him, a series of books surrounding him. He blinks hard, then yawns and stretches. When he opens his eyes, he looks at Josh and smiles.  
“You ok, bro?”, he asks, in a whisper.  
“Yeah”, says Josh.  
“Wanna take a break?”  
“Sure”, shrugs Josh, standing up.

There’s a vending machine in the entrance to the library. They both get a watery cup of hot chocolate and drink it standing very close to each other.  
“It’s great, you know”, murmurs Josh, “Being here with all of you guys. I thought I would never have anything like this again.”  
Chris opens his mouth to say something, then seems to think better of it. Instead, he just takes a step closer and kisses Josh, a hand curled up against the small of his back.  
“I’m so glad you’re here”, he says, softly.

When they get back, the whole group has calmed down and gone back to studying, apart from Emily, who’s peacefully napping.  
They sit down, smile at each other. Chris reaches out underneath the desk and holds Josh’s hand, intertwining their fingers together.  
Ashley, sitting next to Josh too, gives them both a sweet look. She rests an arm on the backrest of Josh’s chair, their knees touching. Josh leans in and presses a kiss against the side of her head.  
  
Sam eloquently raises an eyebrow at them, then grins at her textbook.


End file.
